


"Friends Don't Do This Kinda Shit" (Allegro)

by IrisClou



Series: welcome to ryokira hell [9]
Category: Cyborg 009 VS Devilman, Devilman (Anime & Manga), HOLY FUCK HEY THERE IT IS OH MY GOD FINALLY
Genre: Age Difference, Akira has ADHD really bad bc im a bitch and project my problems onto him, KINDA?? its not like...unwanted or sth tho, Library Sex, M/M, Manipulation, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Public Blow Jobs, Slow Burn, akira literally questions if its gay to get blown by your best friend, bc hes a FUCKING IDIOT, ryo has lost all patience and is going for that dick as if his life depends on ot, this is a wild ride but ?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 04:42:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13967553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisClou/pseuds/IrisClou
Summary: [DIRECT Sequel to Poco a Poco]When Akira unintentionally starts to brutally break Ryo's heart, Ryo decides he's had enough, and is going to take matters into his own hands.He has a plan to show Akira what "no-homo" friends DON'T do.He's going to fuck up that friendshipgood.On finals week. In the school library.





	"Friends Don't Do This Kinda Shit" (Allegro)

**Author's Note:**

> ive been planning on writing this like literally since I wrote Poco but im a bastard. 
> 
> I wanted to slow burn it more but im impatient and so are you. 
> 
> ENJOY!!!

 

> _**[[BGM]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQy12GH1Fl4) ** _
> 
>  
> 
> _Well everyone is changing_  
>  _And the storefronts carry weight now_  
>  _And I'm sorry that you saw me when I lost my way_  
>  _But it's all coming back, yeah_  
>  _Like the feeling isn't over_  
>  _Hey, I know I was lost but I miss those days_

Ryo had tried to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face from earlier that morning, but it only got worse when he pulled into the kennel parking lot.

Akira was walking out the entrance door, holding an extremely wiggly aussie pup in his arms, the dog covering him in excited licks and yipping softly. His face shone like the summer sun above, bright and basking in giddy high of being loved on by a puppy.

“You’re not bringing that thing into the car, I hope you know.” Ryo covered up his smile with a curled hand.

What a fucking adorable piece of shit.  
Ugh, the way his tanned skin glowed hot in the afternoon light, his wiry muscles strong and secure around the squirming aussie. The man found himself just shy of _jealous_ of the stupid animal.

“Nah, bro. I’m taking her to the groomer. Some jackass dog pissed on her outside, and she needs a bath.” Akira’s bright grin flashed from behind a flurry of fur and slobber.

Ryo made a face, watching the boy step into the air conditioning of the annexed building.

His friend returned quickly, however, brushing fur off of his tank top, and fluffing up his hair with his his hands before shaking it out. Akira now looked like a blow-dried pomeranian, and gave Ryo a shining-eyed smile.

Ryo felt his chest and --if he were honest with himself-- _pants_ tighten at the sight of Akira in all his teenage glory, striding up to the Bel-air. It hurt even more when he noticed _his_ maroon aviators were still perched on top of his head from that morning.

“Hey, I’ve got somethin' to ask you.” The boy just threw a leg over the passenger door and slid into the seat, not bothering to open it, “Like, advice shit.” He whipped out his phone, unlocking it and thumbing at it for a bit, checking messages.

The blonde frowned.

“I know I’m your senior by a few years, but since when do teenagers give a shit about what adults think?” Ryo slowly shifted the gear into drive, but hesitated coasting out of the parking lot.

“Well, like, you went to highschool, too, right?” Akira seemed to find what he was looking for, and leaned over the center console to show Ryo his phone, to which he huffed in aggravation.

“Put your damn seatbelt on. Devilman or not, I don't want to see your spine broken.”

He didn't want to answer with “American boarding school, don't you remember?” Followed by “But when I got back, I was too busy getting wasted at Sabbath to recall much of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, but look!” Akira urged, and Ryo leered down his nose at some young woman with dyed honey blonde hair and thick lashes. “God, isn’t she hot?”

His friend raised one (1) sculpted eyebrow.

“Sure.” He turned nonplussed cool blue eyes on Akira. They quickly widened in shock, however, as he watched the boy flop back in the seat, smiling like a fool and staring at the picture.

“So, like, Prom’s comin’ up, yeah?” The boy let out a nervous laugh as Ryo’s white knuckles on the wheel went unnoticed. “How do I ask her out? She’s popular n’ shit, but I think she’s gotta be a nice person if she takes care of her looks so much, right?”

His friend swallowed hard, staring over the dashboard as they cruised out onto the main road, forcing down a rush of emotions that made his jaw clench and... _his eyes sting?_

“...Isn’t Prom next week? You’ve waited too long, I’m afraid--” Ryo began a little hopefully, but was quickly cut off.

“Mm-mm. They moved it to next month. Like, right after my birthday, actually.” The boy snorted. “Remember when part of the school flooded from that like...week of rain? They had to extend classes to make up for the time lost or somethin.”

His friend made a noncommittal noise in the back his throat as they took the exit for the highway, the hot summer breeze whipping his hair around his face.

“Anyway, yeah, I figured since you’re older n’ smarter n’ all that shit or whatever, you’d know how I could get her to go out with me?”

Ryo was inconceivably close to slamming his foot on the brake and whirling around to strangle the boy senseless with his own bare hands.

Had the idiot forgotten how many times he’d come home crying to him about some faceless girlfriend that broke his heart, be it them cheating on him, be it thinking he was a delinquent, be it he wouldn't be good to bring home to her father?

_Be it every damn excuse in the book to not commit?_

Ryo felt a defensive rage coil around his heart like a python, squeezing hard enough that he forget to breathe.

“You’re my best friend, Ryo! C’mon…do a bro a solid!”

The blonde blinked.

_My best friend._

He could see Cottontail in the rear-view mirror, brought back from his bed as promised.

_...best friend._

If best friend wasn't enough to keep Akira from self destructive behavior and heartbreak…

Then he was going to fuck that friendship right up.

Blur every line he could.

Till Akira understood.

Till Akira would change his mind.

About girls.

About _women._

And so Ryo made a plan.

* * *

 

 

> **[[BGM]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sto9PZx5XDY) **
> 
>  
> 
> _Caught, we were caught up in the high, it was better than drugs_  
>  _Too high to see that it would all lead to destruction_  
>  _At least we both know that shit_  
>  _We just gotta own that shit_  
>  _I hope that we can go from this, yeah_
> 
> _Don't worry, my love, we're learning to love_  
>  _But it's hard when you're young_

The next few weeks passed uneventfully, Akira and Ryo playing cat and mouse with each others feelings, every give and take just tugging a little bit harder on each other’s heartstrings, goosebumps at every soft touch.

Late nights writing book reports, Akira falling asleep against Ryo, back to back as they both sat on the couch, typing at their own laptops. Ryo easing the computer from the boy’s hands, letting him lean into his chest, wrapping an arm around him as they both sunk into the sofa, Akira’s ear to his heart.

Early mornings. Bleary eyes, not enough coffee to get a clear sentence out, rushed when Akira forgot his clothes on the couch downstairs, Ryo sighing hotly to himself when he knew what he felt pressing against him at night. Knew he had to wait.

Half days, going out to lunch together, somewhere fancy, Akira still eats like a heathen, but Ryo’s done being embarrassed. Find himself hiding fond smiles in the corner of his mouth.

Afternoons, baked in the hot summer sun, Akira waving to his coworkers and laughing like a child as big black labs with bright eyes and fluffy tails jump on him, nearly toppling him. But he braces himself and hugs them back, eagerly enduring joyful, slobbery licks as he gives them enthusiastic rub downs. Fur in the back of his throat, clawmarks scarring bronze skin, saliva turning his sideburns into cowlicks…

And he walks out to the car, disheveled but beaming like the sun that had kissed the moon.

And he flops into the seat, smelling like wet dog and full of love in his heart, and Ryo feels his own heart beat faster, harder, as though he just walked out of the kennel. But it hurts too.

He scoffs internally. He should have probably gone back to the doctor when it began acting up again, but the man never seemed to have the time with Akira back in his life.

Midnights in the back of the Bel-air, blowing smoke and shootin’ the shit, Akira talks about the stars like they raised him, talks about how much he loves that little aussie puppy at work, gets choked up when he says she may have to be rehomed because her owner is old and frail and can’t properly care for the pup. It was her son’s dog, passed away in a car wreck the week before.

Ryo holds him close, Akira doesn’t flinch when his kisses brush the tears from his cheeks. His breathing is labored when he comes down from the high, and he settles, a little colder, eyes too clear. He doesn't like being this awake. This aware.

He wants to take another hit, wants that warmth from his friend, doesn't want to jerk away, the urge to cry in confusion, he wants the difference in their hands laced together to comfort him, not frighten him.

Ryo shakes his head, puts it all away.

_You have to go to sleep. You have school in the morning._

_Fuck school,_ Akira hisses softly under his breath, the tears are scalding when Ryo kisses his neck, and his hands shake when they push against his friend’s chest. His thighs tense, and he closes his eyes, lips parted as leans back.

Why can't he stop crying like this? What was wrong with him, why did he want this to keep happening, but at the same time his palms forced Ryo back?

Early mornings. Red eyes. Akira sleeps on the couch now.

 _Cottontail always listened the best, anyway._    
Catches hot tears, but when the blanket’s thrown over his eyes to keep it a secret, he can’t see what's making his childhood friend gasp for air, but feels his hips moving.  
Recognizes a muffled name whispered behind a soft hand.

“No homo” he chuckles uneasily as Ryo, fresh out of the shower, passes by in nothing but his silk robe.

_Scrambled eggs, just the way he likes it._

“Why are you spending so much time with Ryo? Why dont you just...fuckin’ move in with him already?” Miki’s angrier by the day, frustrated, doesn't understand why Akira is acting so strangely around her, like a beaten dog.

“Friends don’t do that kinda shit!” She cried out, eyes burning. “It’s like you don’t even EXIST around me any more!”

_“Friends don't do this kinda shit.”_

Akira found himself mumbling that phrase more often than not now, his voice unable to rise above a hoarse rasp as Ryo leans back in the Bel-air, and he crawls into his lap, the smoke between them cool against hot skin. More buttons were unbuttoned than the night before; jeans, slacks getting a little too tight, zippers unzipped.

The high always ended too quickly even when “bedtime” got pushed back later and later.

_“Friends don't do this kinda shit.”_

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

_Uneventful._

Ryo bides his time.

Summer has hit full force, and Akira wears Ryo’s shades permanently now. Cottontail has a VIP pass to the back seat. The dogs bark and howl when they recognize the Bel-air’s V8 engine.

Every time he mentions the girl, its quieter. There's a different voice in his head now, drowning out the confused cry of his heart.

Ryo’s smiling a lot more now, but Akira doesn't like it.

Ryo bides his time.

* * *

Finals week.

Akira’s about to crack. There’s not enough weed at night or energy drinks in the morning to keep him going.

Ryo’s done waiting.

* * *

 

“This is such bullshit…!” Akira slammed the trig textbook shut in a exasperated huff. “It’s my fuckin’ birthday today. Why did I even bother showing up, I can’t study worth a damn anyway!” The stress had gotten to him, stinging his eyes and burning his nose. Shaky tan fingers ran through wild chestnut hair.

Ryo sat calmly on the other side of the small table, looking over his reading glasses at the trembling boy.

_16:52._

School was out for the day, and only a few students lingered in the library to finish last minute reports or study for exams. The elderly librarian was more asleep than awake behind the desk in the stuffy summer heat.

Zero hour.

“Akira. It will be alright.” He reassured the boy. “We’ve worked hard in the past couple weeks, and your grades are much better than before.”

A hot pause, sly smile, his eyes gleam behind thin glasses.

“Besides, think of the incentive. You study hard now, and I’ve got reservations at Pierre’s tonight.” Ryo raised a contoured brow.

Akira’s stomach growled.

Miki had stopped making him lunches when he stayed at the Makimura’s.

He swallowed at his watering mouth, but turned his head with a huff.

“I can't do it. My brain just doesn't work right…” The boy felt hot tears bead at the corner of his eyes. “I know I should've gone to get this shit diagnosed, but...Miki’s parents just think I’m lazy. I work hard and pay them back, even when they dont ask, but it’s…” He took a shaky breath, “I can tell they’re starting to resent me when Miki comes home talking about how I’m never in class anymore, but damn it, I’m still turnin’ in my homework, y’know…?! I’m still…makin’ the grade...” His voice cracked and his head fell into his hands.

Then it all came out, a run on confession of pent up emotions from years of holding it all back.

“...Ryo, I can't _do_ this shit anymore. I can't stand being handed a paper to read and the words blurring together, I can't stand sitting for an hour listening to someone talk but not hear a damn thing cuz the baseball team’s practicing outside, I can't stand the weight of my books in my bag like it's some bullshit _Herman Melville metaphor_ for _guilt_ …!”  .

Ryo listened quietly, face solemn. He reached out a pale hand, slender fingers lacing with shaking tan ones.

“Akira. That’s enough.” He murmured. “Let’s go to the nonfiction section and clear our heads a bit, okay?”

The boy’s forehead was flat to the table, but he nodded, inhaling sharply to hide a sniffle.

He was eighteen now. He couldn’t keep fuckin’ crying over schoolwork like a little kid. Even if it had paralyzed him like a toxin building up for years.

The pair made their way to the back of the library, where the students had dispersed from, and it was silent.

They were alone now.

“Akira.” Ryo whispered. “Come here.”

The boy looked up at him, watched him put away his reading glasses in his jacket pocket, realized just how tall he was, found himself watching his hands as they brushed away stray bangs.

Winter eyes in the heat of summer focused on him.

He obeyed without a second thought, and let out a pathetic sob as he fell into his best friend’s arms.

Akira was instantly comforted by hushed words to his ear and the hug that was so signature to Ryo: as if he were somehow carrying you, holding you tender enough to keep the weight of your guilt off the heavy soles of your feet, made you forget your cares at the mere scent of his aftershave.

 

> **[BGM]**
> 
> _'Cause if we lost our minds and we took it way too far_  
>  _But I know we'd be alright, I know we would be alright_

His breath was unusually hot on the boy’s neck, and Akira noticed something change in the way the wiry arms wrapped around him.

“Let me help you forget about your troubles, Akira.” He whispered, sending shivers up the boy’s spine. “I’ll make you forget all this for now. Consider it an early birthday present.”

Akira stiffened.

Something told him they didn’t back here to look for books for his history exam.

Suddenly his knees got weak. His stomach twinged. The library was stuffier than he remembered it being five minutes ago. He tugged at his shirt collar.

“Just be quiet, understand? Be good, and I’ll make sure you ace every damn final you have, alright, babe?” The word lingered in the back his throat, husky and hot.

Akira was now acutely aware that this was not going to involve books in any way, shape, or form. He stared wide eyed, a little slack jawed as Ryo pulled away to size him up.

“R-Ryo…” He was dumbstruck. Even if it was starting to happen, even if he felt his fingers brush his friend’s, feel them curl into the spaces meant for just them, and only them, he was too sober for this.

N-no homo...right?

Akira let out a surprised hiccup as the grip on his hands tightened and he was pulled back in, only for said hands to pin his own behind him, he could feel them slip away to dig into his jean pockets, groping his ass.

He had no time to react as sultry kisses trailed down his neck, his bony hips flush to his friend’s, but a small squeak escaped his lips. The noise was instantly reprimanded with a harsh squeeze, nails digging into his skin from behind the rough material of the jeans.

“Not a sound. This is a library, remember, Akira?” Ryo rasped between breaths, working on a little hickey at the crook of the boy’s neck, nursing it with his tongue and teeth. The most precious bruises he’d leave on the boy.

Once he was sure Akira’s hips were trembling on their own, shaky semi-thrusts against his slacks, his hands wandered to the front, ice cold on the boy’s hot stomach, pulling his cherry red shirt to reveal a tan, toned torso, fuckin’ _washboard_ abs from working hard on house repairs at Miki’s and wrestling with dogs all day.

Not to mention all the nights Akira had Ryo sit on his feet so he could do pull-ups before bed -- something Ryo had to make an excuse to shower after, doing his best to hide an all too obvious erection from watching the boy panting and gasping right in front of him, bushy brows furrowed in determination.

Ryo wanted to pay due worship to this body. And it was time.

He was going to make Akira forget.

Forget everything but _him_.

He was going to be all the boy thought about, if it was the last thing he did.

“R-Ryo, w-wait, y-you _can’t--”_ Akira mumbled feebly, eyes unfocused as he stumbled backwards, knocking into a sturdy filing cabinet. He could retreat no more.

“They’ll only know if they _hear_ you, you fool.” Ryo said smoothly, leaning down to kiss down the front of the boy’s broadening chest, relishing the salty taste, memories of him that afternoon helping tag in for the baseball team -- mm, the young man found himself making a mental note to invest in a good camera.

Akira clammed up. But still, his knees wobbled, stomach churned, eyelashes fluttering as Ryo suckled passionately on his nipple, taking it in his teeth every other kiss.

“O-ow…” The boy breathed, but it really didn’t hurt -- _didn’t hurt, didn’t_ \-- _ah!_ Fuck, his guts felt so stirred up and electric, wanted something so bad to press against what strained against -- the hands now down on his jeans, lips, tongue, _ah, ah, all trailing down, down, down --_

Akira closed his eyes as he heard the sound of his zipper slowly being unzipped. He couldn't look.

Didn't need to look. Only _feel_.

And Ryo? _Taste_.

The blonde hungrily eyed the sizable bulge in the boy’s dark red briefs, a little bit of pre staining the front.

Perfect.

He’d kill the bastard slowly.

The jeans were shucked down just a bit, Ryo stroking up Akira’s muscled thighs, cupping him in slender hands, massaging him skillfully through the material.

The cicadas drowned out the hushed moans of the boy as Ryo leaned in, tongue flat along the outline of the hard length, running up to the waistband before going back down to gently sink his teeth into the sensitive flesh.

Pages flipped, pencils scratched.

Akira’s hips were moving fluidly now, an invisible beat they rocked to, labored breathing in tempo.

Once Ryo could taste the precum with each lick, the briefs were pulled hastily aside. His own cock pulsed painfully as Akira’s came into view.

God, it was fuckin’ gorgeous.

The open air on his dick made the boy jump, and he realized with a jolt that this was no joke. At least...at least he didn't... _think_ it was?

The first lick sent shocks from his toes to his chest.

“R-Ryo--!” He gasped, as the tongue tip pushed against the slit, “F-Friends...d-don’t...do this k-kinda shit…!”

Ryo took the boy’s cock into his lips, sliding his mouth over it once before pulling it out with a muffled pop.

He glanced up at Akira with hooded eyes, beyond satisfied with how shaken to the core he looked at the sensation. This boy had obviously only had his hands at night.

_“No, Akira. They don’t.”_

**[[BGM]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3tol3z-TJKA) **

But before the boy could protest one peep, Ryo went to work. Right hand gripped the base, pumping slowly as he paid close attention to the tip, left milking the boy’s full balls for all they were worth.

Akira’s eyes rolled back, and he felt the rest of him grow limp, his hips rocking subtly against Ryo’s perfect mouth.

Suddenly, he didn't care that they were in the library. Suddenly, he didn't care that his best friend was giving him the best damn head ever. Suddenly, he just wanted to feel this for the rest of his life.

The young man expertly pushed the boy’s cock even further in, the tip threatening his gag reflex -- he smiled inwardly. Good thing he’d lost that during all the years he’d spent going to Sabbath. Even though it was a bit hard to breathe around Akira’s girth, he had little trouble slipping him into his throat, swallowing hard around the cock as it made his adam’s apple bulge.

In that moment, Akira forgot everything. _Everything but Ryo’s name._

Fuck! He was close. Every other pant was his friend’s name, every gasp was laced with the need to say it louder. His hips bucked now against the skilled bobbing, the ridges of Ryo’s throat rubbing him in every right way possible. Akira felt his thighs tense and his stomach clench, the fire in his loins threatening to burn away his very sanity.

The young man sensed the boy’s edge, and pulled back, pumping the swelling shaft hastily, tongue out, eyes focused on the prize.

“R-Ryo…!!” It was a squealing moan, muffled behind a hand, “I...I’m g-gonna…!” Rosy cheeks melted sun blush freckles as Akira began to beg. He was reduced to nothing more than a dog at this point, hips pistoning frantically, body aching for release.

“Give it to me, you bastard. You’ve held back too long on me.” Ryo snarled, feeling the pouch in his hand throb, and was rewarded with tan fingers weaving into his blonde hair, tensing, tugging him closer out of instinct.

With a wavering cry, just loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough for the students to pretend they didn't hear, Akira shuddered wildly as climax mercilessly wracked his body.

The first creamy jets left a sticky lattice on Ryo’s tongue and lips, but he dove in quickly to swallow the rest, mentally thanking himself for convincing the jackass to eat pineapple every day for the past week. He made sure not to miss a single shot, drinking it down like fine liquor. He could absolutely see himself becoming an alcoholic at this rate if it was Akira’s cum in question.

However, he had not taken into consideration the fact the boy was part demon. He found himself struggling -- unheard of for someone of his caliber in oral, but he managed, and after what seemed to be a small eternity, he pulled away as the pulsing lessened, thick strings of saliva and cum connecting his lips to the boy’s still twitching cock. Christ, his stomach felt _full._

Akira was a shuddering, whimpering mess. There were tears in his eyes, and he could barely manage a shaky breath, his whole body trembling like hell.

He stared down, brown eyes wide at the sight before him.

Ryo licked his lips, before wiping them off on his forearm. Slowly, he rose to his feet, slanted fox eyes piercing the boy.

“What were you saying earlier about taking that girl to prom?” His voice was husky, sore.

“...Wh-what girl?” Akira mumbled a little incoherently, genuinely clueless.  
_The fuck was a_ Prom?

“Good.” Ryo purred, and leaned down, lips parted, pressing them to Akira’s panting ones so he could taste himself on his tongue.

The boy spluttered, breath catching in his throat.

“R-Ryo!” He whispered hotly, vision returning, “F-Friends...friends don’t do th-that shit…!” He heard himself whimper.

Ryo grinned.

“No they don’t, Akira. _Lovers_ do.” Angelfire eyes glowed white hot.

Akira stared at him, dumbstruck.

“I _want_ you, Akira.”

 _Poco a poco had suddenly become_ allegro _._

**Author's Note:**

> oh did you fuckers think it WOULDNT end on a cliffhanger? 
> 
> thats okay, bc if you like puppies, youll be happy to know a certain aussie puppy may be trotting into ryo and akira's lives soon. 
> 
> now suffer until i wait half a year to write the next one. 
> 
> [ps theyre both okay and still best friends!! no hurt feelings just sore dicks and throats lmao]


End file.
